


Brothers in Arms

by TheHonorableJudgeNovak



Category: Gilmore Girls, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen, Sam Forester - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9434951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHonorableJudgeNovak/pseuds/TheHonorableJudgeNovak
Summary: Dean Forester's long lost brother has come to Stars Hollow for a social visit. Weirdly enough, he calls himself 'Dean' too.





	

#### Spring

**"That's your brother?"**

Rory asked, wondrous. Most people asking that question in the little town of Stars Hollow took a more judgmental tone.

Dean wasn't sure which--be it the scrutiny or the admiration--he disliked more, as a tendril of jealousy skittered down his spine. "Yeah." The man outside was so ruggedly attractive and so damn self-assured leaning against a shiny black muscle car that it made Dean sick. 

"What's he doing?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, whatever delinquents do." He directed his gaze outside the diner. His 'brother,' visiting only for a week or so, was busy having it out with Taylor. The gray-haired man was waving his arms as passers-by attempted to look like they weren't trying to listen in on the argument. Most of them failed as they walked away from the action, turning their heads back surreptitiously to give a visual to what they were hearing. Meanwhile, Dean's older brother (he could hardly believe they were related by blood) stood calmly with a satisfied grin on his stupid face. 

Within minutes, the bell above the diner door signaled that the man who claimed to be his brother had finally graced them with his presence.

"Sammy!" The man dragged a chair over to Dean and Rory's table. For some reason, he kept calling him Sammy. Apparently that had been his name before. The older man slung an arm around Dean's shoulders and squeezed. "Man, look at you! I remember when you were still in diapers."

Dean rolled his eyes. He had only recently discovered that he even had a brother and was intensely uncomfortable with this…familiarity. They had only met up twice before, and each time, he had been able to keep Rory from meeting him. "I'm pretty sure you don't."

"No, no. There you were, all cute and chubby. I remember it, clear as day. Changing your diaper, too. I cannot count the times you tried to spray me with your widdle itty bitty--"

"Okay, seriously?" Dean scoffed, aggressively shrugging the man's arm off his shoulders.

Rory interrupted. "Hi, I'm Rory."

The man widened his eyes at her. "Oho, and who's this little lady? Sammy, didn't realize your widdle itty--ow!"

Dean had the other man's hand in a tight grip. "Why are you such a pain?"

"Alright, alright," he conceded. He yanked his hand back and started massaging it. "So Rory, huh?"

"Yep."

"You feel sorry for the sasquatch or something?"

"No, I figured having extracurricular activities like helping bigfoot would look good on college applications."

"Ha! She got you pegged on that."

"Hey," Dean warned.

The other man held his palms up defensively. "The lady said it, not me. Anyway, who do I have to kill to get a cup of coffee around here?"

"That would be me," said a grouchy Luke as he approached the table with a coffee canister. Dean thought surely Luke would dislike the stranger who was acting entirely too friendly for a first-time visitor. 

"Great. Can I get a black coffee and whatever the special is?"

Luke poured some coffee into an oversized mug and left without another word. It was hard to tell whether Luke liked or didn't like a person. He was just gruff like that.

"Friendly guy," his older brother observed. That was strange to think. Brother. Older brother, at that.

"He really is," Rory said in reply.

The man smiled at her and took a sip of the unsweetened, creamless coffee without making a face.

"So, _Dean,_ " he said pointedly, "catch me up. It's really been too long."

  


#### Summer

**Rory broached the topic** when they were sitting by the lake, shaded by foliage thick enough to give them relief from the sun but sparse enough not to impede their view of the drifting clouds. "So you didn't know you had a brother?"

Dean nodded thoughtfully and let a few seconds of silence pass before he composed his next thought. "I didn't even know I was adopted until that crazy guy emailed me out of nowhere. My parents were pissed. Not sure if they were ever going to tell me."

Rory lied there with her ankles crossed and her hands behind her head so she could watch the clouds as they rolled by. "That's such an odd situation. What do you know about your birth parents?"

Dean was sitting cross-legged, picking at the grass. "My so-called brother says our dad is still alive, but I've got no clue why he didn't try contacting me. Said our mom died when I was a baby. Said we lived out on the road until our dad was arrested."

Rory seemed unfazed. "For what?"

"Possession of illegal firearms."

Rory rolled over to prop herself up on her elbows and look Dean in the eye. "Say what?"

"Yeah. Apparently he had an arsenal in the trunk of his car. Don't ask me what they were for."

"Your brother didn't tell you?"

"He sidestepped the issue, but he totally packs. Like, I can see it poking from under his shirt when he doesn't have his leather jacket on. And I've seen the Impala, and he talks like he and…his dad still travel around together."

"Hm," said Rory. She turned onto her back for optimal cloud-gazing. A long moment passed as they watched a cloud shift and form new shapes as it slid slowly across the sky. "Oh hey, did he ever explain why he insists on calling you Sammy?"

"I asked my parents about that, actually."

"What did they say?"

Dean wondered if this was a strange thing to share with someone. Though if he was going to share it with anyone, it would be Rory. "When I was found, and I was pretty young and they didn't even really know my age, I wouldn't tell anyone my name. I just kept saying 'Dean.' Over and over." He thought he knew what it meant, but the idea was foreign to him. He wondered if Rory had anything to say about it, about his desperation as a child to see Dean again, and how he had completely wiped the person from his memory.

Rory didn't say anything for a long while. "I did think it odd that he also calls himself Dean. Not sure if maybe it was a _family thing,_ like George Foreman. Like maybe your dad's name is Dean too."

"A family thing," Dean repeated to himself. He smirked. "Like carrying an arsenal in the trunk?"

"Wow," was all Rory could say.

"Yeah," was all Dean would say in response to that.

  


#### Fall

**Dean was in mood** so negative that he couldn't sit still for even the first ten minutes of Lord of the Rings. So, Rory made an executive decision to distract him. She allowed Dean to carry her books as they wound around the bookstore. She was looking for a Nabokov novel since she heard it was somewhat lighter material than her usual Russian fare, and she was sure Dean was staring at some other books in another aisle.

Dean finally broke his silence and revealed what was on his mind. "Said he always thought I would go to college. I mean, me? College?"

Rory raised an eyebrow. She didn't understand why he sounded so bewildered. Not taking her eye away from the back cover of _Pnin_ , she asked, "What's so wrong with college?"

Dean ducked his head and readjusted his grip on her books. "I mean, I could get into the local college here, but he was talking about universities. Like, 4-year degrees, as if I had the money or the smarts for something like that."

He? Not his parents. Maybe a high school counselor?

Rory sometimes wondered if Dean sold himself short in the smarts department, but figured now was not the time to get into a round of 'You're smarter than this!' and 'No I'm not, what do you know?' She put the book under one arm and flitted behind another bookcase. "It's your choice, Dean. Who are we talking about anyway, and why is this person so set on you going to a university?"

"Maybe, just maybe," interrupted a voice, "it's because your big brother knew you could read while you were still in diapers. Though that's not saying much, considering you wore them until--"

Rory spun around to see Dean shove his older brother off the bookshelf he had been using as a support for his arm. "Whoa, chill!" said the man with a chuckle. 

"Really, man?" Dean asked, obviously exasperated. "Why are you stalking me?"

"Stalking? I'm just trying to spend some quality time with my little brother. I'm leaving tomorrow anyway, and then you'll miss me."

Rory nodded. "He's right."

"You're not allowed to be on his side, Rory." Dean pouted.

"Course she is! Rory, you think my little brother's smart, right?" Rory nodded enthusiastically. "You think he could get into any college he wanted, right?" Rory nodded again. "See? Shoot for the stars, Sam. Since you're not going into the family business, might as well rise above it all."

"Family business?" Rory asked, wondering if she would finally get her answer to the mysterious Winchesters.

"Car mechanic. You notice Dean has a knack for it?"

Dean paled the slightest bit, but Rory wasn't sure why. He cleared his throat. "Who said I wasn't going into car repair? I am pretty good at it."

"You're better than that, Sammy," said the other man, suddenly serious. "I mean, there's no shame in working on cars. None at all. But why limit your brilliance to a chunk of metal when you could be out there saving the world?"

Rory was surprised at this turn in the conversation. It reminded her of the few times she and her mother had their own hearts-to-hearts about the future and Rory's insecurities. 

Dean scoffed the way he often scoffed.

"Ah, you probably don't remember, but we used to ride in the backseat of the Impala. Play with little green army men and stuff them into any compartment anywhere. And Dad would let us sit on the front bumper while he worked on the engine. Those were real good times." His brother took a moment to glance at the books Dean had been eyeing. "But you weren't meant for life on the road. Glad you found yourself here, Sammy. This life ain't so bad."

Again, the man was surprising her. He was sincere. He was smiling with his mouth and with his eyes, the skin crinkling at the corners. _He_ was happy, but Dean was just perplexed and uncomfortable. "My name isn't Sammy. Not even Sam."

  


#### Winter

**Brrrring! Brrrrring!**

Two expectant faces glanced up at him like puppies waiting for their treats. Sighing, Dean got up from his seat on the floor to see who was calling. Naturally, the ladies grinned at him and congratulated each other for having such a useful guy around the house for movie night.

Smiling to himself, he picked up the receiver to a frantic voice.

"Hey, can I get Rory?" asked a hurried male voice he didn't recognize. Frowning, he put a hand over the mouthpiece and hollered toward the living area. "Rory, it's for you! Sounds urgent." He heard a long drawn-out sigh, probably from Lorelai, and then the soft padding of Rory's feet.

"Hello, this is Rory," she said, taking the receiver from Dean. "Oh, yeah, I remember. How are you?" 

The call certainly didn't sound urgent, judging by Rory's end of the conversation. Dean wondered who on earth it could be. He knew most of her school friends, and no one in the town sounded like the stranger on the phone. Suddenly, Rory turned on the speakerphone.

"--just wondering if Dean was around. I tried calling his house, but his parents were pretty upset at me for even calling, geez…Anyway, I was thinking of popping by this weekend since I just finished a job nearby. I kind of need an answer soon though."

Oh damn, he did recognize that voice after all. "Dean?"

"Sammay!" shouted the speakerphone. It was barely decipherable since the machine couldn't handle the volume.

Rory's mother finally separated herself from the television in order to see what the commotion was all about. "What's going on? Who's that? Is Dean questioning himself"

"That's Dean's long lost brother."

"From another mother?"

"The same mother."

"Barbara?"

"No, Mary."

Frustrated, Dean picked up the receiver and punched the speakerphone off. "I told you, my name's Dean. What do you want?" He left Rory and her mother to continue their odd back-and-forth verbal tennis match, since he could still hear the two of them going at it.

On the phone, the man's voice sounded much more tolerable. "I just wanted to know if you were up for a visit from your old bro. I'm in town right now, stopping by Luke's Diner on my way to Maine." 

Dean argued with himself for all of two seconds. "Yeah, sure," he said. Dean wasn't all that bad. He wasn't too invested in the movie that night anyway. And then, figuring it was okay to extend the olive branch a little further, he added, "Y'know, next time, why don't you just use my pager number?"

"Your what? You have a pager? Dude!"

"Well if you're gonna be like that, never mind." With that, Dean slammed the phone down and huffed.

Lorelai and Rory were both staring at him when he finally composed himself enough to look up. 

"Sorry, you guys go ahead. I have to meet up with someone."

Lorelai nodded. "Okay. Well, don't beat yourself up too much!"

As Dean closed the door behind him, he heard her add to Rory, "Get it? Because they're both Dean. C'mon, that was a good one..."

#### 

~

**Dean was more than surprised to find a beat up man slouching at a table in Luke's.** He was expecting to see his brother with the same pep and audacity he had last time. However, this man was just quietly sipping away at his mug of coffee, as if he didn't have a black eye and a busted lip. He looked up and the ends of his mouth twitched up into a smile. "It's good to see you again."

He draped his winter jacket over a chair, hesitantly took the seat across from the man, and put his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. It was something of a defense mechanism, he knew in the back of his mind. 

"What happened to you?" he asked, taking in the man's entire appearance. His flannel and jacket were rumpled and mud-encrusted, and his five o'clock shadow was looking more like an eight o'clock. Dean wondered if it was just a trick of the fading sunlight that made it look like there was blood speckled on his leather jacket--or if that he thought he saw was actually there.

The man laughed shortly. "You should see the other guy."

Dean pondered that phrase for a moment. "Do I want to?" After all, he knew basically nothing about this stranger. He knew the man claimed they were brothers. He knew the man had a picture of a boy who looked identical to the pictures in his parents' wallets. He knew the man's father--not Dean's father, because the guy couldn't even be bothered to show up, and biology means nothing in the whole scope of things--had been arrested and put in prison for three years, leaving his youngest son to the mercies of the state and his older son to God-knows-what. 

His brother's smile faltered. "Probably not. Real messy, is all I'm gonna say."

Dean decided that he didn't want to know. 

"I uh, thought about what you said last time."

"What'd I say last time?"

Dean was hesitant to put it out there. "You know. College. University."

At that, a grin broke the man's face and he leaned forward with his elbows on the table. The tension in the shoulders rolled away as the smile grew. "You'd be great at it, man. You were a bright kid. Always eager to learn." At that, the man paused and pulled back the slightest bit. He cleared his throat. "Though I guess that was a long time ago. Do you uh, do you still enjoy learning and stuff?"

Dean wasn't sure how to respond. He used to enjoy school, he remembered. But the impetus to study just wasn't strong. He didn't see the point. His family was lower middle class, and he always figured he would get a blue collar job or get a college degree just to check something off the list of things-one-ought-to-do-in-one's-life-at-some-point. And although he missed Chicago, he was satisfied with his middle class life in the small town as long as he had his parents and Rory. Then he looked up into the man's hungry expression and found that he didn't want to disappoint him. Couldn't disappoint him. "Uh, yeah. I do," he lied. "One reason why I went after Rory. She has great concentration and she always has her nose in a book," he added to temper his lie, but that at least was truth.

"That's a good gal, you got there," the man said slowly, haltingly. "What do you guys talk about?"

"We talk about my sports teams. I'm uh, I play softball. Hockey. And we talk about movies, and she tells me about the books she reads."

His brother frowned. "You're not into those books?"

Dean shrugged. "I'm into some books. Russians aren't my cup of tea, but I used to be really into world mythologies."

The man's eyes sparkled. "Oh yeah?"

Dean coughed. "But that was ages ago." He was uncomfortable. He didn't want to talk about this anymore.

"Not anymore?" the man pushed. The interest in his eyes was incredibly unsettling.

"My parents were uncomfortable with my level of interest," he said uneasily. Why was he sharing this? Was it because this was his brother? Because he really felt a connection to this stranger?

"Was it because you were interested in something…maybe parallel or tangential to all that mythology?" asked his brother. Dean definitely wanted to change the subject now, but the man was like a dog with a bone and persisted, "Maybe the occult?"

He froze. He didn't know how this man could know that. How this stranger knew that Dean once had nightmares every day of his childhood, featuring demons and vampires and werewolves, and that he had sleepwalked into emptying all of their salt shakers before all the doors and windows? He swallowed on nothing but air.

"How--"

Suddenly, a guitar riff ripped through the air. It was rough and loud and obnoxious, so once Dean had his bearings, he wasn't at all surprised when his brother pulled out a cell phone. He stared at the caller ID for a long beat. 

"Sorry, I have to take this," he apologized to Dean before answering the call.

"What's up?"

Dean knew the rules of Luke's diner, but his brother probably hadn't seen the 'no cell phones' sign on the wall. He nudged his shoulder and gestured at the sign, only to be ignored as the man switched hands to get his cell phone further from Dean. 

He could hear the low rumble of a male voice, but nothing distinguishable as words.

"No, sir. Yessir. Well I just thought-- no, you're right. No dawdling, I got it." Pause. "I did the job, and everyone was happy. Well, everyone except you-know--" he was cut off by the voice on the other end.

There was a long pause as the volume increased on the other line.

"Um, I was just visiting a buddy up here. You wouldn't know him." A pause. "Virginia, huh? I'll be on the road in fifteen. I'll see you soon. Yessir. I'll be on the road in ten." He tucked the phone back into his jeans, careful not to let it show that he had a gun on him. Dean could see it though. Dean remembered that their supposed Dad had been arrested for illegally owning a variety of weapons. That this man was getting into fights and also owned a variety of weapons, tucked safely in the trunk of that beautiful old car. That he had done 'the job,' whatever the job was. He felt a chill race down his back, but he tried not to let his unease show.

"So you're leaving?" Dean asked, surprised that he was genuinely sorry to see the other man go.

"Yep. Gotta ramble on," he said, pasting on a wan smile and getting to his feet with great effort. Dean wasn't sure how the man got here, but he was sure the man wouldn't have an easy time sitting in a cramped car for hours. 

"But you didn't say hi to Rory. And you interrupted movie night." What a lame excuse. If he wanted his brother to stay a few more minutes, he should have said something useful, like 'Virginia is eight hours away and it's gonna be dark soon and it's dangerous to drive in the snow at night,' which were legitimate points.

Instead of pointing out Dean's weak argument, the man grinned that careless grin of his. "You're right. How could I forget to say hi to Rory? I'll drive us there, you be the navigator."

Dean didn't know why he was so happy, but he let the emotion stay and grinned back. Grabbing his coat and paying the bill, he stood up and stretched. His brother swiped the bill and stuffed the money back into Dean's hands.

"I got this. My job doesn't pay all that well, but it can at least cover coffee with my little bro."

Dean followed him to the register. "What do you do anyway?"

His brother wouldn't look at him. "I told you. I'm a mechanic. I take odd jobs."

"And your boss wants you down in Virginia for an odd job? Because clearly they have no mechanics in Virginia."

The hand hold the bill twitched as if it wanting to turn into a fist. But instead, the hand quickly slid over the bill and a couple dollars. "Wasn't my boss. That was Dad."

Dean didn't know what to think. That was…that was their dad. After hearing the exchange between father and son, Dean was starting to think he would be more than okay never meeting this infamous dad of theirs. 

His brother clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You leading the way?"


End file.
